Reassignment
by lowri
Summary: Dr. Amy Zoll receives the Methos project and learns a bit about who Methos really is. Prequel to Origins, Hidden Agenda, and mostly of Of Biblical Proportions.


****

Disclaimer: The dates for this story are taken from the Watcher CD, not the airing of the different episodes. I needed some uniformity and this seemed the best way to achieve it. The names of Amy Zoll's tribunal are lifted also from the Watcher CD. All things Highlander belong to Panzer/Davis. I've just borrowed their fabulous characters to explore some missing scenes from the series, and used tidbits documented on the Watcher CD. No money was made, so please don't sue.

This particular tale is part of an ongoing series, which incorporates both _Origins_ and _Hidden Agenda_ and will include _Of Biblical Proportion_ and _Adjustment_. However, for this story you don't need to know any of them. Both _Origins_ and _Hidden Agenda_ are archived on Seventh Dimension and on my own web page, 

Many thanks to my betas. Shomeret, who gifted me with her wisdom of splitting up the monstrosity into several distinct stories, of which this is the first, and pointed out some pesky plot holes and inconsistencies. Janeen, who scoured the story and found multiple punctuation mistakes and additional canon misrepresentations. An author is nothing without good betas and I am blessed with having worked with the best.

Reassignment

By Lori Wright

****

July 1996

Dr. Amy Zoll shut her briefcase with a decided snap. All of her personal items had been packed away. Only the priceless antiques graced the office now, _objets d' arts_ that had been placed there by her former boss--her Watcher assignment--her friend. 

A lone tear dropped from the corner of her right eye as she said her mental good-byes to her former life. The _Musee National des Antiques_ had been her home for the last two years. As the assistant curator, Amy had worked closely with Marcus Constantine, a man who looked to be in his early fifties, but was really an immortal and nearly twenty-five hundred years old. He had been a Roman general who had evolved into a dedicated historian. He had a crisp, authoritarian manner of speaking that frightened many of the staff, but she welcomed his style of command. Amy respected rules and boundaries; she felt comfortable with them. It was probably why she enjoyed the Watchers; they too believed in oaths and regulations.

But, Constantine was dead, beheaded three months ago by Avram Mordecai, an immortal who had once been Constantine's student. Two thousand years ago, Governor Silva led the legion _X Fretensis_ into Masada. Aided by Constantine, the Romans laid siege to the Jewish stronghold. Instead of a battle, the inhabitants committed mass suicide, thus cheating the Romans out of an honorable victory. However, Mordecai, a Jewish scribe, did not stay dead, but returned to life, kicking and screaming against fate. Amy had read of the account when she had first been assigned as Constantine's Watcher, but she never would have believed the role that Mordecai would play in ending his teacher's life.

Since that terrible day in April, she had spent every waking moment writing Constantine's memoirs--trying to recall every detail he had told her. With that last project completed, the Watchers were sure to give her a new assignment. She roughly wiped her eye, erasing any sign of weakness, and strode purposefully out of the room without a backward glance.

"Off to lunch, dear?" Naomi asked as Amy strode past.

Amy smiled at Constantine's secretary--no, her own secretary now--and lied. "Yes. I should be back in a couple of hours."

"Don't forget the board of trustees is expecting you at three."

Amy cringed inside. "I remember." With a final wave, Amy continued on her way.

In reality, she was headed to Watcher Headquarters, known to the community as the International Asset Corporation. Her supervisor, Staci Remington, had asked her to come in that afternoon, which meant that today was probably Amy's last at Constantine's museum, as she privately referred to it. She had spent all morning composing her letter of resignation.

Amy passed the new exhibit that Marcus had worked on so diligently before his death. The immortal battle with Avram Mordecai and subsequent quickening had temporarily destroyed the work of historical art, but she had insisted that the museum restore it as a memorial to Marcus. He would have wanted it as his last legacy to the mortal world. The banner that read _Rome's Enemies--Rome's Victims_, in Latin, hung high between two Corinthian columns. Amy remembered the conversations she and Marcus had had, his passion for telling the truth about Rome, and how he wanted others to know it as well.

It was ironic that the victor of the battle that had destroyed the exhibit had been one of Rome's oldest enemies--a victimized Jew. Instead of giving the casual observer a glimpse of what the Roman war machine had been like, the exhibit had ignited a simmering hatred in someone who had lived through it. Mordecai had stood at the replica of the Arch of Titus, staring at it and then at Marcus, his eyes growing dark and vengeful. Like a coiled spring, he had sprung, hacking and destroying everything in his path. Amy's eyes filled with tears as she saw it again: Marcus's quickening lashing out, filling Mordecai, then wrecking something the ancient Roman had worked so long to create. The zealot had probably thought that the eradication of a symbol of Rome's dominance was just an added bonus.

Amy gazed sadly at the arch for a minute, then continued down the corridor.

The wooden doors opened automatically, and she stepped through them without missing a beat. Her heels clicked on the granite walkway and her briefcase, feeling heavy with her letter of resignation, knocked against her leg with every step. Only a few hours left as assistant curator. This afternoon the board was sure to inform her that she was promoted from assistant to curator. Instead of accepting the post, she would have to give them her resignation. They would never understand her decision. Sliding into her Saab, she reluctantly drove to Watcher Headquarters.

The sprawling stone building had an expensive security system. The immortal thief, Amanda had made several attempts at breaking in, and after each time the Watchers had upgraded it with the newest gadget. Amy was sure it was just a game to the Immortal, because she never stole anything, but left only a note, mocking them in her own little way. 

The Headquarter's parking lot was half filled. Amy parked her car and walked quickly into the foyer. The Paris Supervisor was waiting for her. "Good afternoon, Dr. Zoll," Howard Bien greeted her as she closed the door.

"Hello, sir."

"They're all assembled in the Green Room," he informed her, smiling widely.

"All? I thought I was supposed to meet only with Ms. Remington?"

"This is a delicate situation, and all of the tribunal thought it best to meet with you personally."

Amy was totally baffled. What did a tribunal want with her? A shred of hope flowered as she thought that maybe she wouldn't get reassigned right away. "Thank you. I'll just be on my way," she said politely, trying to get rid of him and holding in her burgeoning excitement. 

"But, I'm coming with you. I want to see your face--" Then he stopped speaking abruptly, as if afraid that he had said too much.

She looked at him quizzically then made her way alongside him up the two flights of stairs to a room completely furnished and decorated with items collected from the Victorian era. As she entered the lush room, she felt completely out of place in her modern brown tweed power suit. A velvet and satin gown with lace borders would look much more in place--

"Please sit, Dr. Zoll," the Western Europe Coordinator, Staci Remington, told her.

Amy started, embarrassed at having been caught daydreaming. "Thank you." A large mahogany table dominated the room. On one side, ten chairs ran alongside the table. The middle five were taken up with Watchers, all staring intently at her. There was only one lone chair on her side of the table, obviously where she was to sit. She pulled it out, barely noticing the plush fabric lining the backrest and seat. With her knees tucked under the table and her arms folded on her lap, she calmed herself by reviewing what she knew about the people sitting before her.

The one on the furthest left was Yu Qin. She was the expert in ancient Chinese culture. Most of her time was spent digging in old libraries and putting together facts that most of the world had no idea about. Next to her was Julien Fragale. He was an anthropologist who focused on the waves of European migrations. His greatest love was the beginning of the first millenium when Romans, followed by Goths, and then Huns conquered and reconquered the same lands. His book about the first Celts in Ireland was one of Amy's favorites.

Seated directly in front of Amy was her boss, Staci, who winked and then wiped her face clear of emotion. Amy gave her a tentative smile and then glanced to Staci's right where Eugenia Mohrmann sat, the regional librarian. Her home base was the main archive in Marseilles. Amy had worked several times with the older woman and found her an excellent resource. Lastly was Jacques Schautar. His specialty was the evolution of religion, from ancient Buddhist beliefs to modern Christianity. When Avram Mordecai had surfaced during the Israeli-Palestinian peace talks, Schautar had rushed to Paris. Amy had been instructed to tape all conversations between Constantine and his former student. She hoped her tapes had been of some use.

It was an interesting fact that four of the five tribunal members were all historians and researchers. What did they have in mind for her? Bien took a seat off to the side.

Staci addressed Amy, who abruptly returned her gaze to the tribunal. "We've been reviewing your record with the organization along with your personal strengths. Since the death of Marcus Constantine, you've been without an assignment. We all applaud you on the excellent job you did on his memoirs, but now it is time to find you a new placement. Do you have any requests or things you'd like to mention before I proceed?"

Amy felt the disappointment down to her toes. They were going to pull her from the_ Musee National des Antiques_. "I am very happy in my present occupation. I understand that I can be of use elsewhere, but I hope that you take into consideration my expertise in Mediterranean history." 

"Then you'll be pleased with our decision." Staci paused, glanced at her fellow Tribunal members, then continued. "You will remain at the museum as the assistant curator as your cover."

A shiver of excitement traveled down Amy's back. Then she remembered her other appointment at three that afternoon. "And if they make me curator?" She could detect a wobble in her voice. Taking a deep breath, she brought her emotions back under control. 

"You may accept that position," Staci agreed.

"But always remember that your job as a Watcher is your first priority," Julien Fragale inserted. 

Amy nodded. "Of course." Her throat tightened, as she realized that they were really going to let her stay. It was an unexpected reprieve. As an added bonus, she'd be able to complete the reconstruction of Marcus's exhibit. Mentally she listed all the things she could now do that before seemed unlikely. Then a thought occurred to her. "You said the curator job would be my cover. What's my real assignment?" It couldn't be much, probably scouring for Immortal relics or documents. 

"We have given this a lot of thought, and it has brought about much debate," Staci began.

"It would require your utmost loyalty," warned Fragale.

"You would be required to do long hours of research," Eugenia informed her, with a smile trying to break free. 

Amy studied their faces. All of them looked at her with speculation, but only Eugenia and Staci seemed pleased, the rest looked like they had swallowed something sour. 

"You have been transferred to a project where I'm sure you'll use your *expertise* in Mediterranean history to the fullest." Eugenia let the smile fill her face. "You're in charge of Methos."

Amy froze. Methos project? Methos? Her? How in the world did she get picked for the most coveted assignment in the organization? A rush of air filled her lungs. She had forgotten to breathe. 

Staci continued. "Your position in the _Musee National des Antiques_ will enable you to gain access to information on newly discovered antiquities, yet give you time to pursue information on Methos. Any questions?"

Amy was only barely hearing the Regional Coordinator's words: access to information ... newly discovered ... information ... Methos ... It still didn't fully sink in that she was going to be given this plum assignment. "I thought Adam Pierson was in charge of researching Methos?" 

"He was," Schautar responded with disgust. "Unfortunately he's gone AWOL."

"AWOL?" Amy asked. She couldn't believe that Pierson would just disappear. She'd met Adam once, at the Marseilles archive. He seemed to be a nice enough guy: thorough in his research and very willing to help her find texts that she'd been interested in. In fact, until he began to be best buddies with Dawson, she didn't think he had any friends at all. Well, there had been Don Salzer, she reminded herself. In fact, it was right after the older Watcher's death that Adam became more than an acquaintance with Dawson. Maybe Adam had a preference for older Watchers and enjoyed the student-mentor relationships.

Staci continued where Schautar left off. "Rumor has it that he's still in Paris, but we've been unable to locate him. The official Watcher texts that he'd been working on have been returned, but his personal notes are still missing. "

"Isn't he friends with Joe Dawson?" Amy asked. "If anyone could--"

"But Dawson says he doesn't know where the man is," Staci informed her.

Schautar sniffed in disbelief. "As if we can trust that man about anything."

Eugenia interjected, "Joseph is a fine Watcher!"

"Mr. Dawson was convicted of breaking his Watcher Oath and sentenced to be shot!" Schautar stood suddenly and continued. "The only reason he's not dead now is because that damned Galati shot everybody in the compound, and Dawson's *friend* Duncan MacLeod stole him away." He slammed his hand on the table.

Despite Schautar's bitter sounding words, Amy had to agree with the man. She would bet her every last sou, that Dawson knew exactly where Pierson was hiding out. Probably the only oath the older Watcher hadn't broken was to never betray a friend. It was too bad that Dawson had been corrupted by the Highlander's wiles. If the Watcher had only stayed loyal to the organization, they'd be much better off. It was probably Dawson's conflict that made Pierson question his own loyalties and leave.

"I'll question Dawson myself," Amy told them all, trying to diffuse the tension and avoid a more heated argument. "I met him back when MacLeod took Nefertiri's head. We got along okay, and maybe I can coax the information out of him."

"Don't promise him anything," Schautar warned her.

"The only thing I want are Pierson's notes. Dawson can act as go-between if it makes him feel better."

"He's back in Seacouver," Eugenia told them all off-handedly. "You going to fly over there or call on the phone?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I need to think this through carefully."

The tribunal all nodded in agreement.

"I take it this means you accept your reassignment?" Staci asked her bluntly. 

Amy tried to contain her excitement as the ramifications began to set in. "I accept." It was a huge undertaking.

The tribunal stood and filed over to her, each shaking her hand. 

Slowly, it began to sink in on Amy that not only wasn't she going to leave her old position, but she was going to gain the coveted Methos project. She was a very lucky woman.

****

September, 1996

Dr. Amy Zoll thought she must be the unluckiest woman in the world. Here was yet another discrepancy in a chronicle. What had Pierson done? She threw her pencil down and stood up abruptly. Stretching her back, she tried to release the tension several hours of sitting stationary had induced. Walking into the kitchen, she went through the motions of making a fresh cup of tea. Her last cup sat on the desk, cold, with only one sip missing.

Adam Pierson was driving her crazy. The man had just surfaced in Seacouver, with his good friends Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod. It had been noted that the ex-Watcher had moved into a condo and appeared to be staying. As of yet, nothing had been filed by Dawson, but Mike Barrett's latest report was full of the "happy news."

Amy clenched her jaw. What she wouldn't give for five minutes alone in a room with Pierson. Every day for the last three months, she had been scrutinizing hard-copy chronicles and comparing them with the computer records. She'd detected discrepancies both in chronicles pertaining to Methos and in some that seemed to have no relation. They were all minute and could only be recognized if one was searching specifically for them. Was Pierson that sloppy or was he trying to hide something?

Suddenly the telephone rang. Setting her tea down, she picked up the receiver. "Oui?"

"Dr. Zoll? This is Gary Lister, over in the States. I Watch a man by the name of William Culbraith. Today a very tall dude with lots of facial hair and no sword came up to Culbraith and said that his name was Methos."

Amy almost dropped the phone. Finally, Methos had resurfaced. "He's there? Is he doing his usual 'lay down your sword and let us all be friends' act?"

"Yep. In fact he's trying to convert Culbraith, but I don't think he'll succeed."

"I'm on my way over. Where exactly are you in the States?" Amy's mind was whirling. She had to call the airlines and get a ticket as soon as possible. 

"Seacouver. Culbraith has this yacht he spends all his time on. I took the liberty of following Methos and found him living on holy ground, working in a botanical garden."

That little bastard, Amy thought as she began to seethe. No wonder Pierson was in Seacouver. He was still hot on the trail of Methos, not seeing his old friends. She'd get to Methos first, she swore to herself. "I'll get the first flight out. Do me a favor, don't report this to Dawson just yet. This is my jurisdiction and Pierson's there with Dawson. I don't want any interference from either of those two."

"Okay, Dr. Zoll."

Amy noted where Lister was staying and the name of the gardens that Methos was tending then hung up the phone. She'd fly to Seacouver and take care of both things: the sighting of Methos and that damned Pierson. Maybe she'd even get lucky and recover some of the notes that Pierson had conveniently forgotten to leave her. Then she'd call him on the chronicle changes. She began to daydream of a court-martial, where she was chief prosecutor. 

****

Two days later

Amy found it difficult to actually locate Pierson. He was never at his condo. She kept missing him at Joe's. If circumstances had been different, she could have asked Dawson, but she didn't want to tip her hand, yet.

Methos, on the other hand, was easy to locate. He made no secret of where he was and acted accessible at all times. She meandered over to where he was pulling weeds, then plopped down beside his pile of tools.

"Can I help you?" he asked softly.

"What are you doing?"

"All living things need nurturing to grow and flourish--humans and plants alike."

Amy wasn't sure what to say. This was the world's oldest immortal. He must have seen so much, experienced so many things, and she wanted to talk with him for the rest of her life. It was better than reading moldy scrolls in dusty libraries, anytime. She ended up with: "You have a beautiful garden here."

"I do my best." Methos straightened up, dusting off the dirt from his gloves. "Walk with me."

She complied. They wandered down one path, past a large bush of mums in full bloom. Amy bent down and fingered the small violet blossoms. A rainbow array of pansies surrounded the flowerbed.

"You seem troubled," Methos commented to her.

"Not troubled, just…"

"Confused?" he finished for her.

"Frustrated as hell, is a better description," she muttered gruffly.

"Adjusting to a new life can be frustrating, but I'm sure you'll work it out."

"Adjustment is not the problem. It's an illusive co-worker who doesn't want to be found. Damn his hide."

"Patience. He'll let you catch up to him sooner or later."

She had the uncanny feeling that he knew exactly what she was talking about, which was of course impossible. Being five thousand years old must give a person the ability to read body language very well. The thought comforted her. Any reservations she had had that this man was not Methos evaporated. "My name is Amy. Thank you so much your encouragement."

"I'm Methos. Glad to help. Anytime you want to come back here and talk, I'll be here."

Stunned at his admission, she just nodded and walked away. She had found him--the real Methos. As she climbed up a set of stairs, a blond whirlwind swept past her. Looking at the back of his head, she recognized Richie Ryan from digital pictures that were attached to MacLeod's file. If Richie knew that Methos was here, then she was positive that MacLeod and Dawson would know, too. And if they knew, Pierson would know. Maybe if she kept a low profile, Pierson would come here himself, and then she'd corner him. The more she considered her plan, the more she liked it. The old Methos Watcher and the new one, both stalking their prey.

She found a bench and sat down. Time slipped by slowly. Richie stayed for quite awhile, then he too left. Finally she was rewarded for her patience. Adam Pierson strode sedately along a path that led him directly toward Methos. The old immortal looked up. Amy felt her pulse quicken as she contemplated what the two men were discussing. Pierson looked totally at ease, enjoying the interchange. Would it be possible to get closer? Moving down a path, she lost sight of the pair. It took her longer that she had realized before she caught sight of them again, but it was too late, Pierson was leaving. He wore a troubled expression as if something Methos had said bothered the hell out of him. She angled her position and cut him off. "Mr. Pierson, I'd like a word with you."

He gazed at her for a minute, then recognition echoed in his eyes and they became guarded. "Dr. Zoll."

"For someone off the Methos project, you were sure quick to get to Seacouver and meet him for yourself," she commented sarcastically.

His eyes crinkled with laughter. "Have you talked to the great man himself?"

"Yes," she answered. "What did he have to say to you?"

"Not much, just something vague about living without anything to show for it."

Amy laughed inside. That old immortal had pegged Pierson to a tee. "Shall we go someplace to talk?"

"Are you here to chastise me for leaving the Watchers? To subpoena me for a trial before the latest tribunal? Maybe you're supposed to execute me for desertion."

"As much as all those suggestions sound appealing, I only want what is rightfully mine."

Pierson's eyes widened in mocking surprise. "What could I possibly have of yours?"

"I want all the notes you *forgot* to surrender when you left."

"I was a little busy at the time," Pierson returned, seemingly unfazed.

Amy continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I want every scrape of data that you've accumulated during your tenure as the Methos Watcher. They rightfully belong to the Watchers, not to you."

"If you want to get technical, don't the notes on Methos belong *rightfully* to Methos?" Pierson asked. "Maybe we should take them down to him and let *him* decide who gets them?"

"I am in charge of the Methos project," Amy repeated. "They belong to me!" Her voice rose an octave in her agitation.

"I concede; let's remove ourselves to someplace with more privacy." 

This fell in with her plans. Amy wanted to go back to his condo. She knew he must have his notes hidden away there. Following closely in her car, she made sure he didn't try and escape. Much to her surprise, he didn't.

They rode the elevator in relative silence. Pierson opened his door, and she pushed her way in first. Gazing around, she noted the cheap wicker furniture, the modular fake wood bookshelves and the expensive computer system. What should she investigate first? His desk was the most likely place for notes. She marched purposefully over to it.

"Help yourself," he told her with a mocking tone to his voice.

Amy ignored his taunting. She was on a mission. Would he keep them in a folder or some kind of binder? The top of the desk was completely clear of clutter.

"Do you really think I'd keep anything on Methos where just anyone could find it?" 

Amy thought his tone made the question sound rhetorical, but he had made a good point. Stop, she told herself. He was just trying to confuse her. "Methos is here in Seacouver. If you were still investigating him," Amy reasoned aloud, "you'd have something here to refer back to and add any necessary observations." She opened a drawer and shuffled the papers around.

"I rarely keep notes. I usually jot stuff down in a chronicle--"

Amy pounced. "You doctored some." She slammed a desk drawer closed and went over to him. "I saw at least four cases where the computer copy was different from the bound chronicle."

"And so you naturally assume that I did it on purpose. What if Don copied something wrong? What if the pertinent information was taken from a different immortal's chronicle? Hmmm? Ever think about that?"

She wanted to put her fist through a wall--or maybe into his big nose. She went back to the desk. "Did you ever find any information," she asked, trying misdirection while sifting through the bottom drawer, "of Methos living in Egypt?" Nothing, she closed the drawer ready to admit defeat.

"Which years? I believe he was there several times."

"I was interested in a possible connection between him and Constantine."

Pierson's whole demeanor changed. It became soft, almost consolingly comfortable, which pissed her off to no end. "I'm sorry. I forgot that you Watched Marcus. You must have taken his death hard."

"I did. To think that his student--someone he trusted-- took his head. It should never have happened."

"It's the Game, Dr. Zoll. They all know the price, and I wouldn't be too sure that Marcus trusted Avram. I think he was prepared."

"Not prepared enough. Mordecai gave his word and when Marcus lowered his sword, the--the--," Amy stumbled over her words, "Mordecai said: 'Honor is meaningless. Life is all that matters.' Then he took Marcus's head." She took a deep breath, fighting for composure. She would not break down in front of Pierson. Clearing her throat, she added, "Now that I've been reassigned to Methos, I'd like to be able to find a connection between the two. Did they know each other? Were they friends? Enemies?"

"I talked with Marcus once about it. I don't believe the two knew each other at all. My research has told me that Methos *was* in Alexandria during Cleopatra's reign, but he left before the very end. He's very good at calculating the right time to leave a place, before it gets too dangerous. To get as old as he is, he must be very careful."

As much as the words Pierson said made sense, it didn't jive with the Methos she had just met. He didn't act careful. In fact, almost the opposite. "Do you have *anything* here about Methos?"

"Not a thing. The only reason I'm in Seacouver is because Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod are. The fact that Methos is here is just a coincidence."

Instead of reassuring her, it made her doubt his agenda even more. There was nothing else she could do or say to Pierson. "Maybe I'd be better off going back and talking with *The Man* himself. Thanks so much for your time."

Amy left the condo, still mad and even more frustrated as the futility of getting anything from Pierson finally sank in. Dawson deserved such a friend, she thought spitefully. All the way back to the botanical gardens, she went over her conversation with Pierson. Where had she lost control? Until she spoke, she hadn't even realized that she was hoping for some kind of association between Methos and Constantine. Was it a subconscious wish to stay connected to Marcus? She still missed him.

She parked her rental car back in the parking lot and started down the grass pathway. Up ahead she saw a man, hovering near a fountain, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Gary Lister?" she called out softly.

The man turned. "Dr. Zoll," he acknowledged.

"What's going on?"

"My assignment has come here for some more enlightenment."

"Pardon?" Amy was confused.

"Methos is preaching that if one immortal refuses to fight, then the next, pretty soon the Game is over and there is no winner. Culbraith won't fall for it, although poor Richie Ryan has. Even the great Highlander came to visit and is convinced that this Methos is a fake. Can you believe it?"

Amy felt her heart stop. "A fake?"

"Yep. MacLeod doesn't believe this man is genuine. He thinks that Methos wants the immortals he meets to lay down their swords so he can take their heads. You know--a scam."

"You think it's true?"

"I don't know."

"All the data show that he's genuine in his belief." Amy told the other Watcher. "Unfortunately, the Immortals who follow his teachings end up losing their head to the next immortal who comes along." Why hadn't she considered that the man was only using the name Methos to further his cause? "So, MacLeod actually said that he thought the man was a fake?"

"Yep. I heard him voice his disbelief to Culbraith and then to--" His eyes widened suddenly. "My God--look!"

Amy peeked over her shoulder then turned around to watch. Culbraith had engaged Methos in a one-sided battle. The oldest immortal refused to fight. It was over way too fast--with Culbraith the winner.

"Damn," Lister muttered.

Amy couldn't believe her eyes. It was murder. An involuntary shiver went down her back. The quickening was unbelievable. She had seen enough. Dispirited, she returned to her car. There was nothing left for her in Seacouver. Methos, whether real or fake, was dead. She'd never know for sure.

****

November 2, 1996

After over a month, Amy still obsessed over Methos' death. She pulled every recorded sighting and scoured the details. It seemed he disappeared for months at a time to reemerge a continent away, always preaching the same litany. Pierson had kept an impeccable time line with locations for almost a decade. However, he never speculated whether this Methos was real or fake or included evidence one way or the other. Another frustrating day as the Methos Watcher.

Amy opened her apartment door and went inside. Maybe this evening she'd relax and just read a book. The message light was blinking on her answering machine. Kicking her shoes off, she hit the play button then went into the kitchen to get a can of soda. 

"Hi Amy. It's Julia. Seasson Szalay's birthday is coming up. Feel like a trip to Turkey? We've got a real bash planned. Call me."

Beep.

"Amy? It's Howard Biel calling. Something big is going down in Seacouver. Call me immediately."

Beep.

"Dr. Zoll? This is Melanie Hinds calling. You don't know me but, I Watch a woman that goes by the name of Cassandra. She has been hunting a man Kronos for the past five months. Today she came across Adam Pierson at MacLeod's dojo and called him *Methos*. Can you believe it? Pierson is Methos."

Amy dropped her soda can.

"I don't know if you can get a hold of me; Cassandra has been very active. I'll call the next time I get a chance."

Amy felt lightheaded and she slid to the floor. Absently she watched the soda bead up on the carpet as it spilled from the can. Adam Pierson was Methos? Their conversation in Seacouver came back to haunt her. "Don't the notes on Methos belong *rightfully* to Methos?" Pierson had asked, throwing her accusation back at her. She felt humiliated. 

But, that other Methos turned out to be fake. Maybe Pierson wasn't the real one either. Who was this Cassandra? Could they take her word on things? Amy went over to her computer and logged onto the Watcher database. She searched "Cassandra." Nothing was mentioned about her age. The first sighting of her had been when Roland Kantos had been hunting for the child, Duncan MacLeod, and Cassandra had hidden the boy. She was referred to as a witch, but no one knew where she came from. 

Slowly the ramifications hit Amy. The oldest immortal had been masquerading as a Watcher. Was he using their information to hunt? Despite his denials, she knew he had doctored official records. Was he hiding himself? How could he do it? How had he gotten away with it? Around and around it all went. 

The phone rang. She jumped up to get it. "Oui?"

"Dr. Zoll? This is Melanie Hinds."

"I am so glad you called me back."

"Things are getting more intense. Have you ever heard of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? It's referred to in the Bible."

"Yeah," Amy answered hesitantly. The Bible was a wonderful historical document. "Something about Death on a pale horse that kills with a sword--"

"They're real. The Four Horsemen. Kronos, Methos, Caspian and Silas. They were immortal, and Cassandra says that they raped and pillaged over three continents. I couldn't hear the particulars, but Methos admitted that it was all true. He had MacLeod pinned to his truck and he admitted to everything."

"Did you talk to Dawson about it?"

"Briefly. Cassandra won't keep still. She's bound and determined to kill this Kronos character, and from what I've seen today, she doesn't stand a chance. At one point they were engaged in a battle, but something happened and the next thing I saw was Pierson knocking her out and dumping her into a river. I didn't go back inside the station but followed the body instead. That was all yesterday. Now today, MacLeod brought Cassandra to the bar, and I think Dawson's taking them through the database trying to find Caspian and Silas. I can't believe that he's doing it, but --"

"You mean that MacLeod has also told this Cassandra about the Watchers, and the two of them are using our database to find other immortals? Has Dawson taken leave of his senses?"

Melanie Hinds gave a self-conscious laugh. "I think he has. But, maybe he had no choice. If Methos and Kronos *are* trying to find Silas and Caspian, then that means they're trying to put all four Horsemen together. God, I can't even comprehend *that* happening. Anyway, they, Methos and Kronos, left Seacouver this morning."

"To where?"

"Don't know. I'm sure Cassandra and MacLeod will follow. I'll call you as soon as I find out anything more."

Amy hung up, still dazed. Methos had infiltrated the Watchers, changed chronicles--probably deleting himself as he went along. It didn't make sense that he used the Watcher information to hunt other immortals. Someone would have seen and reported it. She just knew he had been trying to stay anonymous. What a mess this was, she wailed silently.

The big question was how long Dawson had known that Pierson was Methos. He had to have known. MacLeod would have told him that Pierson was immortal. When had Pierson joined the Watchers? Wasn't it back in '86? Don Salzer had been his mentor--another Methos Watcher. Did Don know exactly who his student was before Kalas killed him? Had Kalas found out?

Still feeling furious, she booted up the computer to e-mail Joe Dawson.

__

Mr. Dawson,

Three months ago, I was given the assignment of Methos Watcher. I took over for the absent Adam Pierson, whom I know is a "great" friend of yours. I can only assume that he was able to pull the wool over your eyes as well as others in the Watcher community. To believe that Methos, parading around as a naïve graduate student, was able to pull off such a scam for YEARS, without anyone the wiser, seems unthinkable. You must have had some inclination that he was not who he said he was. Did MacLeod inform you of Pierson's immortality? You must have been able to ascertain it for yourself. Is this why Pierson went AWOL from the organization? I have to believe that you would not betray us by keeping quiet about such important information. Do you have any idea how much tampering Pierson has done with official texts? I have found a few, but now I believe there to be a great many more, as yet undiscovered. 

Now we have a real disaster on our hands. Has your "good friend" reunited with an immortal of his past with the intention of…

Amy paused, her fingers resting on the keyboard. What were their intentions? Was there a plan? Pierson admitted to being a member of a group of four immortals that savaged three continents. They raped, burned, pillaged and killed millions. What was their intention, now?

__

…with the intention of terrorism and murdering more millions of innocent people? Or just world domination? We harbored a wolf in sheep's clothing for several decades. Pierson has betrayed your trust as well as the Watchers. Now your assignment is hunting your friend. Where do you stand on this issue?

Amy really wanted to down-right accuse Dawson of knowing that Pierson was immortal. She would love to get Dawson to admit that he knew that Pierson was Methos. Disgusted with the whole thing, she clicked--send--realizing too late that she forgot to finish or even put her name at the bottom.

Taking a deep breath, Amy tried to relax her fraught nerves. The important thing now was gaining info on the Four Horsemen. This was for both historical significance and future consideration. Their plague might be rampant yet again. Were the other two still alive? Pulling her Bible from a shelf, she flipped pages until she found the reference. While waiting for Melanie Hinds to call her back, she'd research everything she could find on the myth. Unfortunately, the concept of a man that evil lurking in the quiet, studious, Adam Pierson intrigued her.

****

November 8, 1996

For a week, Amy waited patiently for Melanie Hinds to get in touch with her. When the call came, Melanie informed her that all four Horsemen were together in Bordeaux. Amy packed and drove her car to the hotel that the other Watcher had recommended. Duncan MacLeod and Cassandra were also registered there. The sun was just beginning to set as she pulled up to the front of the hotel. Melanie came flying out the door, her gaze fixed on a car just pulling away. Recognizing her from the picture on the Watcher database, Amy flung open her front door and called, "Melanie Hinds!"

The other Watcher turned to her and a relieved smile spread over her face. "Excellent timing. Cassandra was just kidnapped. MacLeod left earlier, and I guess Kronos, Caspian and Silas took advantage of the Highlander's absence and took her. They're heading that way," she pointed down the road.

Amy pulled back out into traffic. "Where was Methos?"

"I bet he was the one that drew MacLeod away from the room."

"You think Methos is really on--"

"Don't be an idiot," Melanie chastised her. "Of course he is. Why else would he have gone with Kronos in the first place. He could have taken his head, but instead they're best buddies. Just like old times." Melanie sounded bitter.

"What if Kronos didn't give Methos a chance to refuse. Maybe Kronos threatened Methos," Amy reasoned out loud. "Or someone close to--"

"Turn here," came the quick command, cutting Amy off in mid-sentence. "They must be heading to the abandoned sub base. There's nothing else in this direction."

Amy found it difficult to follow the immortals without being seen. The sun had totally sunk below the horizon and only twilight remained. There was no one else on the road and it was fairly open. Deciding not to take any chances, she pulled off and parked the car behind an old guard shed. It was several hundred feet to the main structure.

"We'll have to walk it," Amy told the other Watcher, prepared for an argument.

"I've got binoculars in my pack along with a night vision scope. We'll Watch from out here and see if Methos comes back with MacLeod. Once they're both in, we can get closer and enter the building."

After ten or so minutes of watching with nothing happening, both women moved closer to the main group of buildings. It was totally dark now, with only a hint of moonlight. Soon that too would disappear. Hiding behind a stone fence, they waited still longer. Melanie let Amy use the field glasses while she used the night vision scope. Periodically they traded. 

"I think we should get closer," Melanie suggested. "The moon is almost gone and it's pitch black out here."

Amy was just about to agree, when movement caught her attention. Just then a person rounded a corner, heading to one of the doors. It was Methos and he was alone. Her lungs contracted in anticipation. 

Suddenly Melanie lowered the field glasses and grabbed night vision scope away from Amy. "Who is it?" Melanie asked as she peered through it. 

"It's Pierson--I mean Methos," Amy answered. "Wonder where he's been? God, I wish we could get closer."

The two women looked at each other and silently they agreed to try. Both knew the risk, but curiosity--the need to know--was overwhelming.

It took over an hour to get close to the structure. They were careful and made slow progress. Amy had a small penlight, but it did little but illuminate the ground. On the far side of the building, Melanie, still using the scope, detected another entrance. The two women slipped through the heavy door into more darkness. The penlight revealed only a small portion of the room they were in. In the silence, they could hear water lapping against walls, or a dock, or something close by. 

A sliver of light shone through a doorway, so the two walked slowly in that direction. Amy couldn't detect any other sound, except their breathing, which in the silence seemed abnormally loud. Their footsteps were silent, but left muddy prints on the concrete floor. 

The next room they entered was filled with huge coffin-like cylinders. Torpedos? Amy assured herself they couldn't be armed. Using the dot of light, they inched around them, but there weren't any exits visible. There was a ramp around one side of the room but no apparent stairs. Melanie tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to a darker corner of the room. Amy nodded and the two headed in that direction. 

Metal stairs were hidden within the shadows. They went up. Both were still afraid to talk. The ventilation system was a mystery and the thought of Kronos hearing them and beginning a search was too terrible to consider. When they reached the top, there was no choice but to head left. With their hands on the rail, they inched forward. The murky darkness hid whatever lay ahead, yet still they walked on. Abruptly, their ramp ended. With a deep sigh, they turned around and headed back the way they had come. 

Amy realized that they were going nowhere. They were fumbling in the dark with no clear direction. Both followed the handrail around until they could see shadows identifying the stairs. Melanie descended first. As they got to the bottom a bright light flashed into their eyes, blinding them.

"You little fools," a harsh voice spoke out. 

The light lowered and revealed Adam Pierson glaring at them holding a huge flashlight. Yet it wasn't Pierson. Those eyes could never belong to the scholarly Watcher Amy had met in Seacouver. Neither women moved, caught like deer in front of a car's headlights.

"Are you totally without brains?" Methos asked, sounding extremely dangerous, despite his voice's low tone. Shivers rippled down Amy's spine as she imagined his quickening shooting from his five thousand-year-old eyes.

Nothing had prepared her for seeing his true nature. Adam Pierson was only a façade, worn to fool others. His lethal personality was shown to them fully--without hesitation. Another shiver shook her body. What was he going to do with them? Take them to Kronos?

Methos stepped back through a door that was only visible now, because of his brighter light. Tossing them a canteen he whispered, "Stay put. Don't make matters any worse." Then he slammed the door shut and they heard a bolt slide.

Melanie began sputtering in anger as she tried in vain to reopen the door. Amy felt around for the container of liquid, which she hoped was water. How long would they be kept prisoner? This didn't look good. Amy had told no one where she was going. She doubted that even Melanie had had time to file a report. Amy backed up to the stairs and sat down on the bottom rung.

"He left us here to die," Melanie spewed forth. 

"Then why did he leave us water?" Amy asked, having opened and smelled the contents.

"How do you know it isn't poisoned?" Melanie countered.

"I don't." But she was pretty sure it wasn't. Why would Methos wander around the empty submarine base carrying a canteen with bad water in it? It didn't make sense.

Melanie began to pace in the short area around the stairs. Fear gave her feet momentum, and anger kept them going. Although Amy was just as angry, she spent her time thinking. That vile ex-Watcher had locked them up in here so they wouldn't discover what was going on. It was immortal business and Methos didn't want them knowing about it. That he was trying to keep them out of harm's way didn't occur to either of them.

What exactly had these Horsemen done to get a reputation that was important enough to become recorded in the Bible? Yeah, they raped and pillaged three thousand years ago, but at least five hundred years passed before the Bible was written. What made them come together? What made them break up? Why would they reunite now? It couldn't be in Methos' best interests to start on another crime spree. Not that there was any doubt that he could do it. Another shiver of revulsion went down her back as she remembered the dark fury in his eyes. Maybe they were dead meat and he'd never come back and let them out. If he lost his head to MacLeod or even Cassandra, no one would ever know they were here.

"Least he could've left the damned light before he left," the other Watcher muttered as she returned to the steel staircase.

"Let's be rational about this." Amy had turned the penlight off, preserving the batteries. "You're right, we did come in here through another door. As we came in, what did we see?"

"The torpedoes."

"Right. And where are they?"

The room was so monstrous; they had lost track of where the large cylinders were located. Starting at the corner, the two women backtracked. Now that they were more rational, the door was easy to spot. Melanie gave a relieved sigh as she turned the door handle. It didn't budge. 

"Damn. It's one of those that is always locked on one side." Melanie slammed her hand against the door in frustration.

"Locked on the *inside*? It doesn't make sense."

"He locked it. Methos didn't want us escaping."

Amy had to agree. All evidence pointed to Methos. Disheartened, they went back to the other door and waited.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Melanie threw the canteen on the floor after she finished the last few drops of water inside. The sound of the bouncing canteen woke Amy. She couldn't be sure how much time had elapsed, but it seemed like at least a day. Suddenly there was a sound at the door and it slid open. 

"Wait," Amy whispered to Melanie as the other Watcher made a sudden move towards whoever was coming in. What if it was Kronos?

It was Methos. He looked at them coldly, almost daring them to say anything. "Here are two flashlights. Follow this corridor and take your first right. It will lead to a fire door which I unlocked yesterday." His voice sounded weary.

Amy nodded. As she came closer, she noticed a bloody sword at his side and tear-stains down his cheeks. She gulped and bravely asked, "Is MacLeod dead?"

"No. Leave," he commanded and turned in the opposite direction, seemingly dismissing them from his mind.

Amy's curiosity overwhelmed her good sense. She flicked on her flashlight and ran up to his retreating back. "Is Cassandra alive?"

Methos spun on his heels and pinned her against the wall, his sword biting into her leg as they stood face to face. "MacLeod took Caspian and Kronos. I took," his voice quavered, "Silas."

Amy could feel something wet against her leg. Was Methos' sword severing her pants and skin as they stood face to face? She didn't feel any physical pain, if that was the case. Could it be Silas' blood, still fresh from the battle, causing the discomfort? All of this went through the periphery of her mind, yet most of her attention was captured by the expression in his eyes. "Tortured" was the only word she knew to describe it. Some feelings of compassion must have shown on her own face, when suddenly the threat became real. He became a very dangerous man who had her at his mercy. Her throat became thick and swallowing was impossible.

"Let her go!" Melanie yelled, running up from behind. She carried a gun and it was pointed towards the immortal's head. 

In a fluid motion, Methos swung his arm and knocked the gun out of her hands. It skidded along the floor and into the dark shadows of the corridor. Fear held Amy immobile, though she was no longer held prisoner against the wall. For a second no one moved. Melanie held her right arm with her left, obviously feeling some pain. 

"Don't follow me. Things are going to get real hot around here." Methos spared one more glance at Amy, then continued down the corridor and out of sight. Almost in unison, the two Watchers let out a sigh of relief. Amy bent over and shined the flashlight onto her pants. It wasn't her blood. It had come from the sword. They did as he suggested and left. As they reached their car, flames were shooting from one of the windows.

****

November 28, 1996

Three weeks later, Drs. Zoll and Harami walked through the _Musee National des Antiques _to the office of the curator. 

"Any calls for me?" Amy asked as they passed Naomi's desk.

"No, Dr. Zoll," her secretary replied, using the formal name in the presence of another researcher.

Amy nodded and opened the door to her office. Dr. Julia Harami preceded her inside. As soon as the door was shut, the two broke out into shared smiles and giggles. 

"I can't believe it, Amy. We did it. The Watchers are letting us head the research on the Four Horsemen."

"It didn't even take as much persuasion as I thought it might."

"You were there. You saw Methos--talked to him--right after he took Silas' head."

"And nearly lost my own head," she rebutted, only partially kidding.

"Do you honest think he would have killed you?"

"I don't know. He's very unpredictable. Since we've gotten back to Paris, he's settled in this nice apartment, but he won't answer the phone or have any contact with me at all."

"Have you gone over to his home?"

"No!" Amy was shocked at the idea. "I would never trespass on him. It would be suicide."

Julia picked up and caressed an ebony and bone statue. "So, what's our first move?"

"We need to get Dawson's report. I'm sure MacLeod gave him all the gory details, but as of yet, Dawson hasn't filed anything. I'll fly to Seacouver if I have to."

"I heard that MacLeod's still in Paris." Julia set the statue down and walked over to the desk. "Wonder how much detail Cassandra gave Dawson as he opened up our archives to her? She's a very dangerous immortal to be knowing about Watchers and the wealth of information that we have."

Amy couldn't agree more. "Thanks to Dawson we've got at least four immortals that know about us, and that doesn't include Methos." She shivered at the disturbing thought. "How did *he* find out?"

"I don't know. Adam Pierson joined the Watchers back in 1987," Julia added. "I met him once back then. He was very nice, kind of shy." She gave a depreciating laugh. "I thought he looked *young*."

"He does look young, when he's in his Pierson persona. But when Methos comes out, it's bone-chilling. His eyes are ruthless and cold. With a move he could break your body and your soul, as I'm sure Cassandra knows first-hand." Amy didn't want to think about it anymore. She was unsure how she felt about the immortal. Fear was predominant, but not everything. Within reason, she'd like to get close enough that he'd talk and tell her things about the past. History that you couldn't find in books. History that included Marcus Constantine. 

The two Watchers who were now heads of the newly formed Horsemen Research Team talked and planned more, and then said their good-byes. Julia had some people she had to contact, and after dinner, Amy intended to contact Joe Dawson.

Dr. Zoll's first stop was the little carry-out café where she ordered herself a dinner and brought it home to her apartment. As soon as she entered her home, she went through her usual routine. First her shoes were kicked off into the corner; then she set her dinner on the table. Her answering machine came on with her messages, which she listened to as she changed out of her suit and into a pair of slacks and crew-necked shirt. Next she grabbed her keys and went to retrieve her mail. This was the biggest pain about her apartment. Her mailbox was in the next building. It was designed that way to save the postmaster's time, but it was a huge inconvenience for her.

She opened up her box and found several bills, a letter from her mom and a large golden envelope with no return address. After closing the door to her apartment, she set the smaller enveloped mail on the table and ripped open the intriguing one. Her hands shook with excitement as she read the top page.

__

Closeout reports: Kronos, Caspian and Silas.

Composed by Adam Pierson

I hereby tender my resignation to the Watcher Organization due to a conflict of interest. As my final submission, I have compiled a brief summary of the circumstances surrounding their deaths and the actions taken to clean-up the viral problem.

Kronos: Alias-Melvin Koran, Eugene Korinski, Dexter Korvin.

Status: Dead

Victor: Duncan MacLeod, November 10, 1996

Kronos, in his endeavor to bring the Four Horsemen together, succeeded in creating a situation that resulted in their downfall. He had stolen a recently discovered virus, more deadly than Ebola, and planned on infecting major world cities. He was a megalomaniac desperate to become the dictator over the entire world. Duncan MacLeod was able to diffuse one viral bomb set to go off in a fountain. This is the only known attempt to infect the human population and, as far as this writer knows, all virus was destroyed in a fire at an abandoned military installation in Bordeaux where Kronos had set up his base of operations. Animal hosts for the virus were also incinerated. There should no longer be a threat from that quarter.

Relief swept threw her. Thank God! She knew about the fire. Hell, it had been in the news for a week afterwards. Amy's personal belief was that the Quickening had started the blaze and that Methos had done his best to keep it burning. She continued reading.

__

Kronos kidnapped Cassandra in an effort to enrage her protector and weaken his mental discipline. In a miscalculation, Kronos sent both Silas and Caspian to kill MacLeod. Silas returned to the base reporting that Caspian had lost to the Highlander and thus unwittingly led MacLeod to the abandoned base. In a one-on-one battle between Kronos and Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander won, thus ending the prospective tyranny at the hands of the Horsemen.

Amy quickly started in on the second page. There was nothing in there that she hadn't heard from Melanie Hinds or hadn't been told to her by Methos himself. She did notice that Methos' name wasn't mentioned once on first page of the document. How could he write so much yet give little personal information. She came to the page that described Silas. The words were almost gentler, more personal. However, under the victor, Methos did list his own name. She skimmed through everything, and that was the only place in which it appeared. 

She sat down at the kitchen table and began eating her dinner while rereading the reports. There were a few tidbits of new information. It was ingenious of him to write an official document, saying very little, but still making the effort. Maybe he wouldn't be closed off to her in her future studies.

****

The End

Author's Notes:

1. Amy Zoll was listed in the Watcher CD to have taken over the Methos Chronicles after Adam Pierson's dishonorable discharge.

2. The immortal battle between Avram Mordecai and Marcus Constantine happened in the Highlander novel, Zealot by Donna Lettow. She also made it canon that Methos first met Constantine around 34-35 AD. Methos was a slave named Remus and Constantine rescued him. The entire description of the Constantine's museum and the exhibit- Rome's Enemies--Rome's Victims, was also from the novel.

3. Staci Remington is listed in the Watcher CD as the Western Europe Coordinator and Euginia Mohrmann as the regional librarian, archivist, and an expert in restoration of old texts. Howard Bein is the Paris supervisor since 1996.

4. Gary Lister is listed as William Culbraith's Watcher. This immortal and references in this scene are from the episode, The Messenger.

5. The Watcher CD states that Adam Pierson was pegged as Methos during the Horsemen episodes. Melanie Hinds reported it to the Watchers. I have taken facts from both the CD and the episodes, combined them and made up the rest.

6. Julia Harami and Amy Zoll are listed in the CD as presenting at a conference, in January, 1997, on Applied Research in Albertville France: _The Four Horsemen in Myth and Legend_. Dr. Harami is the head researcher for the Middle East.


End file.
